


You can't blame gravity

by ThyCannoli (orphan_account)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, Embarrassment, F/M, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Holding Hands, Jon Snow knows nothing, M/M, Minor Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, POV Third Person, Poor Theon, Robb Stark is a Gift, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 19:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12305679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ThyCannoli
Summary: Ygritte convinces Jon that setting Robb and Theon up on a blind date is going to be hilarious. They get more than what they bargained for.





	You can't blame gravity

**Author's Note:**

> The characters' ages:  
> Theon - 20  
> Robb - 19  
> Jon and co. - 18  
> Sansa, Margaery - 16  
> Arya - 14  
> Rickon - 6 (surprise child, okay?)
> 
> Title is from a quote that's associated with Einstein: "You can't blame gravity for falling in love."
> 
> I won't be able to write for a while, so I wanted to post this fast, now that the angst is out of my system.  
> Have fun!

 

“He _is_ coming, right?” Jon hisses into his phone. “If he’s not, I’m not telling Robb.”

“ _Calm down, Snow. Margaery swore she got him to agree.”_ Ygritte drawls on the other end of the line. There’s a pause, then “ _And I’m not telling him either.”_

“Jon, are you in there?”

“Shit, he found me. See you at the restaurant.” Jon rasps out and hangs up on his girlfriend.

He exits the first floor bathroom with all the dread a going-on-a-date Robb calls for and promptly slumps against the door when he sees him holding up a shirt.

“You sure this is better? Because I’ve been thinking…”

“Mother, help us”

“...and maybe I should wear a white one. I’ll just go change in a minute-”

“Robb. I swear to all that’s holy. You. Are. Fine.”

“All right.” Robb takes a deep breath and nods to himself. “I’m overthinking it.”

“Yes.”

 

~¤~

 

It starts like this.

“Hey Snow!”

“Ygritte.” He’s not in a good mood. Goddamn Allisair Thorne and goddamn AP Wildling Studies and… just... goddamn life.

“Sup, you got an A- again? Aw, how sad. Poor little bastard.”

Though he doesn’t quite believe it himself, Ygritte’s his girlfriend. The Stranger knows what that actually means, beside her freely harrassing him.

“What do you want?”

“A kiss would have been nice, but seeing your gloomy face always makes me horny, so-”

Jon kisses her before Glenn and Pyp can hear anymore of that. He’s already the laughing stock of his class because of his ’oral talents’, he doesn’t need them to know about all his bedroom habits. When their lips finallly part, Ygritte gives him a satisfied smirk.

“How’s your brother?”

Jon shrugs, sighing. Bran’s accident has been a big shock for the family. It’s fortunate that their father’s a friend of the king, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to get the best maesters of Westeros and Bran might have become paraplegic.

“Better. Still not walking, but he’s getting there.”

“Not that one, the one with the hero complex.”

“Robb? Why, you interested? Sorry, he’s got a girlfriend.”

Ygritte rolls her eyes. “You know nothing, as usual. Didn’t he tell you about the Red Wedding?”

Jon frowns.

“The Freys’.” Ygritte clarifies impatiently.

“Ah.”

“Yeah, that one. He broke up with that Janie chick-”

“Jeyne.”

“-whatever. In front of everyone. Pretty big scene.”

“He didn’t tell us.”

“No shit. She said she hoped snogging with her brother was worth it. Then she poured half a bottle of wine over him.”

Jon winces. That must have hurt.

“So, how’s he?”

“He’s been his normal obnoxiously sweet self.” Last weekend he made their entire family breakfast, everyone their favourite. And now that Jon thinks about it, he helped Sansa practice for her choir rehearsal which usually makes everyone run for the closest exit. “All right, maybe a little more over the top.”

Ygritte nods. “Do you think he would go on a date with, uh, someone I know?”

That little ’uh’ in there was quite telling, Jon notes with dread. “You mean someone you fucked.”

“Yeah.”

He feels a headache coming on as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why?”

“I promised him a date, since we can’t fuck anymore.”

“Is he even interested in guys? Also, I can’t believe you’re coming to me with this.”

“You’re my man, aren’t you? Gotta be useful for something.”

Jon looks up at the ceiling for the gods to have mercy. “I can ask him.”

“Great.” Ygritte slinks up to him and wrestles a hand into the back pocket of his jeans.

“You done groping me?”

“No.”

“I have class in five.”

“Don’t care. Show me that wicked tongue again.”

They don’t talk for a while after that.

 

~¤~

 

Nothing could have prepared him for the disaster that is Theon Greyjoy.

“What’s _wrong_ with him?”

Theon, the guy Ygritte has hooked up with once or twice is currently sitting with his back against a tree. He’s just as battered as his leather jacket and he’s eating a sandwich that seems homemade. The disgusting kind.

They first spotted him arguing with a woman that looked like his sister, by that time he already had a black eye. Since then, he’s managed to get into a fistfight with a guy who had a pit bull, stubbed his toe in a park bench and got laughed at by a group of girls when he tripped on his shoelaces.

“Well, he’s an ass.”

Jon doesn’t even know what to say to that. “Why did you sleep with him then?”

Ygritte shrugs, bored. “I only cared about his cock. It was nice.”

“Heavens” Jon buries his face in his hands. He’s often questioning his life choices ever since Ygritte decided they were going to date. “How is it a good idea to dump him at Robb? He’s obviously straight anyway.”

Ygritte replies just as Theon notices the girls are still cackling at him. “First, I wanna have a good laugh. I promised Greyjoy a date, yes, but I did not agree to anything specific. Second, your brother has to explore the gay side of life, now that he’s free of all that heteronormative shit.”

“And you suggest he start with _that_?”

Jon bursts out incredulously. He watches as Greyjoy sneers at the group of girls when he passes them again. One of them breaks into tears a moment later. “This is the worst idea ever.”

“You know nothing, Snow. This is going to be hilarious.”

Jon sighs again. “You make sure Greyjoy’s there to pick him up on Friday, I’ll take care of Robb.”

 

~¤~

 

Taking care of Robb requires approximately two minutes.

“Jon, I don’t really want to date right now. I have assignments, you know, and Grey Wind has to get his annual shots.”

“Please. It would make me happy to see you have fun.”

As if hit by a magic spell, Robb’s gaze softens. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

 

However, convincing Greyjoy isn’t quite that easy.

“No.”

“Why?”

“He’s got one too many body parts. I’m not interested.”

“Bullshit. If this is about that big, nice shiner you got from Bolton, don’t worry, he won’t care.”

At Ygritte’s words, Greyjoy pales, but his resolve just seems to harden all the more. “I didn’t get it from him. And you can fuck off.”

With that, he goes storming away.

“That went well.” Jon remarks. Ygritte pops her chewing gum thoughtfully.

“We have to bring out the big guns.”

 

’The big guns’ actually turn out to be Jon’s sixteen-year-old sister and her best friend-slash-girlfriend. No one’s really sure which.

“Oh Marge, we have to help them!” Sansa’s like molten butter after Ygritte makes up a complete story about Robb falling in love with the mysterious Dornish Lit major who saved him from getting soaked on a rainy day, but now refuses to go on a date with him out of fear.

“Is he even a student?” Jon mutters to his girlfriend when his sister and Margaery Tyrell go to the bathroom together.

“Yeah. Marine biology.” Ygritte answers, smirking, and Jon thinks it’ll be better if he keeps his mouth shut for the upcoming hour or so.

 

~¤~

 

 _“It’s done.”_ Margaery declares on the screen of Jon’s laptop. They are skyping with her, sprawled on Jon’s bed with Ygritte’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Just like that? He agreed for your pretty eyes?” Jon raises his eyebrows skeptically. Theon didn’t look like an easily convincible guy, at least regarding this matter.

 _“For my pretty eyes and my brother-in-law getting him a restraining order on Bolton. Everyone’s happy.”_ She smiles, then amends. _“Well, except for Bolton, of course.”_

“See, the big guns.” Ygritte whispers into his ear. Jon ignores her.

“How did you know?”

 _“Jon, anyone who pays the slightest bit of attention to the local rumour mill knows that Bolton’s a creep.”_ Sansa chirps in on Margaery’s end.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be home by now?” Jon frowns at her.

_“Mom knows I’m sleeping at Marge’s. Does she know about Ygritte?”_

“No, but it’s not my fault she’s here, she broke in through the -”

 _“Anyway_ ” Margaery interrupts their little scene loudly. _“after Ygritte told us about the guy with the pit bull, it only took a small jump to realise that was Ramsay. Then I knew this was going to be Theon’s weakest point.”_

“You two really are cunning little shits.” Ygritte praises them and the girls giggle in Margaery’s rose-covered room. The scary thing is that she really must have meant it as a compliment.

_“Robb has his number, right?”_

“Sure.” Ygritte lies like a professional. “Now we just have to wait for the lovebirds to elope.”

The girls start snickering again, whispering excitedly behind their hands. Jon has no trouble guessing what kinds of ridiculous scenarios they are making up. Before either of them gets the idea to share it with him, he bids a hasty goodbye and closes his laptop.

“Now what?” He asks, by this time reserved to play whatever role Ygritte has for him in her clever scheme.

“Now Action Wolfie is a go.”

 

~¤~

 

“Tell me again, why are we calling it Action _Wolfie?”_

“Because your brother’s like a wolf.”

“What?” Jon laughs as they sit down for breakfast at the huge Stark dining table. Only Rickon and Arya are there yet, blinking sleepily into their mugs. “He’s the farthest thing from a wolf I can think of. At most a puppy… without the claws and teeth.”

Ygritte rolls her eyes. “He’s like a wolf because he is smart, loyal, pack-oriented and hairy.”

Jon chokes on his orange juice. “How the fuck do you know that?”

On the stool next to him, little Rickon gasps. “You said a bad word! Jon said a bad word!” He shouts and pelts him with the skin of a banana. Opposite him, Arya chortles with her mouth full of cereal.

“All right, all right!” Jon throws his hands up in defeat. “I’ll put a dollar in the swear jar.”

He turns to glare at his girlfriend who grins and digs into her eggs with gusto. “Back in sophomore year Gilly and I sneaked into the boys' locker room after your rugby practice. I planned to spy on you, maybe take a couple of pictures for, you know, private use.” She takes an enormous bite of her toast and finishes with her words muffled by the food. “You weren’t there. He was.”

“And you just stood there and watched my brother undress?”

“Didn’t need to, babe. He was already naked as a newborn. Fucking hairy too, even around his -” Jon clasps a hand over her mouth to preserve whatever’s left of his siblings’ innocence and tries to hold back his pained tears.

“Ygritte said a bad -”

“Mother, help me. Please wipe out those mental images from my brain or I’m going to turn goddamn blind.”

“Jon said a bad word! You both said bad words!”

“For the gods’ sake, Rickon, stop!” Jon yells and slams his fists down in a rare fit of anger. There’s a moment of complete silence before all hell breaks loose. Rickon starts wailing, Arya makes projectile weapons from her cereal and fires at Jon, and Ygritte cackles into his ear while the dogs begin a particularly ear-splitting howlfest. Jon closes his eyes and waits for his doom to steadily descend the stairs in the form of his father woken up before his alarm.

 

~¤~

 

On Friday after school, Jon stares into his closet and reaches for a black button down. Ygritte slaps his hand.

“What.”

“You have to wear something different tonight.”

“Why? Black is a perfectly nice colour. It fits everyone, you can wear it to any occasion…”

“And it’s fucking depressing. No, you should wear that one.” Ygritte states and points at the far end of the cloth rack.

Jon’s expression turns sour. “Do I really have to? It’s green.”

“Yes, you do. In full black Robb is going to notice you.”

Knowing his brother, Jon sincerely doubts that he can notice a bomb going off when he is on a date, but he keeps silent. It has always proved  to be the best to let Ygritte have her way and just roll with the flow.

“Oh, by the way, you have to get Robb to wear his light blue shirt and those grey slacks, you know which ones.”

“I really don’t.”

“From that picture.”

“You mean his facebook profile pic?”

“...is that the one all the girls are passing around? He is sitting in an office chair, legs spread, looking into the camera with baby-blue bedroom eyes -”

“That’s his facebook picture. And what the hell, he’s just smiling at Bran! It’s his normal face.”

“Mm” Ygritte hums and licks her lips. Jon, once again, thinks it’s a very, very good thing that he’s not the jealous kind. “Anyway, get him to wear that.”

“This is a joke date, why does he have to look good?”

“For one, he doesn’t know that. And the better he looks, the bigger a fool Theon is going to make of himself.”

Jon slumps onto his bed. “But he’s straight, isn’t he?”

Ygritte climbs onto his lap and twirls a lock of his hair around her finger. “Don’t think so. I broke into his laptop, he had gay porn on it.”

“When did you manage to do that?”

“After I fucked his brains out, back in the day.”

Jon almost gags. “Stop telling me about your conquests.”

“Hm, but if it makes you -” She grabs him through his pants. “- this hard…”

“Shut up.” Jon mumbles against her mouth and turns to press her into the mattress.

 

~¤~

 

It turns out to be quite a feat to convince Robb to wear that particular attire.

“I’m lost. What do you do on a date with another guy? Are we going to a pub? I have to wear something comfortable that goes well in any setting, just in case, maybe one of my jeans?”

“Robb, the setting is fixed, he’s taking you to _The Godswood._ You know that restaurant, right?”

“Oh no, that’s too fancy. I need a dress shirt.”

“What about this?”

Jon dutifully offers him the light blue shirt Ygritte has picked out. Robb dismisses it with a look. “If I’m sweating up a bucket I can’t wear blue, it’ll look disgusting.” He grabs a flower patterned one from the depths of his wardrobe. Jon’s eyes widen in horror.

“No way.” He tears it out of Robb’s hands. “Why do you even have this… thing?” It looks like the lovechild of a neon Hawaiian shirt and some Russian folk coat, not to mention that its fabric smells like moth-feast.

“It was a present from Aunt Lysa.”

“That explains a couple of things.” Jon says drily and reminds himself to send the cloth to his History teacher, Stannis, for one of his ritual bonfires.

“Wear your grey slacks and this one.” Jon holds up the light blue shirt again. “Simple, yet effective. And it’s not that warm outside. If only you relaxed -”

“I can’t. My last relationship didn’t exactly end well and now I’m nervous to start again.” Robb admits quietly, staring out the window. Jon waits him out - cheating isn’t Robb’s style at all, so he can’t deny his curiosity about that turn of events. “On Roslin Frey’s wedding, Jeyne’s brother cornered me in the bathroom. Before, we’ve been flirting for a while because I thought it was only for fun and it sort of… flattered me. But he was serious.”

When he doesn’t go on, Jon nudges his shoulder. “And he kissed you?”

Robb nods. “Then Jeyne found us.”

“Why didn’t you explain it to her then? It was just a misunderstanding after all.”

Turning back to his clothes, Robb gnaws at his lower lip mournfully. “Because I liked that kiss. More than… than any straight men should have.” He visibly shakes himself and forces on a smile, changing the topic.

“All right, that shirt will do. Shall I wear a tie as well?” He asks almost cheerfully and holds up a yellow monstrosity that, in fact, is covered by cartoon wolves. Jon barely stops himself from setting Robb’s entire wardrobe on fire.

 

After half an hour of pure torture, Jon slips out of Robb’s room and hides in the bathroom on the first floor of the Stark manor. He speed dials Ygritte, curled up in the bathtub.

“I’m out.” He blurts in lieu of a greeting. “Robb’s a terror. Now he’s so worked up I’m surprised he doesn’t combust spontaneously.”

Ygritte barks a laugh into the phone. _“You’ll see, it’s gonna be worth it. Theon doesn’t even know_ The Godswood _is a Michelin-star place, he thinks it’s a sushi bar.”_

“Why did he pick it if -”

_“I told him it’s Robb’s favourite.”_

That renders Jon speechless. “You are evil.”

_“Guilty as charged, darling.”_

“Darling, huh?” Jon smiles fondly. Ygritte purrs on the other end, making him chuckle. _“Where are you?”_

“I’m taking sanctuary in the bathroom.”

 _“Hm.”_ Jon hears the rustle of clothes, then a sigh. _“What are you wearing?”_

“We are _so_ not having phone sex right now.” Jon groans, then glances at his wristwatch. “Damn, Greyjoy should have arrived ten minutes ago. He _is_ coming, right?”

.

.

.

 

~¤~

 

“Do you think he’s all right? He’s running late.” Robb asks in the living room as soon as Jon manages to settle the dilemma of his clothing. When Jon doesn’t answer, he collapses on the couch defeatedly. “Maybe he stood me up.”

“Then I’m going to skin him alive.” Jon growls. So far, Ygritte’s great idea hasn’t been much fun. If they actually hurt Robb in the process, Jon’s going to kill someone.

“I understand, it’s not that easy to go out in public with another man. The gods know I’m pretty anxious about it too.”

“Robb, if he doesn’t show his face in five minutes, we'll go watch a movie together, all right?”

Robb smiles at him so gratefully that Jon almost shrinks in guilt. He’s _this_ close to ruin the whole plan by fessing up to his brother when the doorbell rings. It’s like the angels’ music to Jon’s ears.

Robb jumps up as if on fire and runs a hand through his hair. Jon can’t hold back a smile when his earnest, slightly frightened face hardens in typical Stark-fashion as he goes to open the door.

 

~¤~

 

Greyjoy is shifting from foot to foot on the doormat. He’s in no way dressed up enough for a critically acclaimed restaurant, but he obviously put some effort into his looks. His shaggy hair is now combed in a half-acceptable style and he ditched the leather jacket-torn pants outfit for a worn-out suit. He’s still wearing sneakers though, which makes Jon grin in amusement.

Robb holds out his hand. “Hi, I’m Robb.”

Greyjoy’s mouth is hanging open and his mind seems to have shifted to robot pilot, because the silence stretches between them to the double of the social norm.

“T-Theon.” He stutters and shakes Robb’s hand. “Uhm, Greyjoy. Theon Greyjoy.”

 

Jon digs his phone out of his pocket.

 

17:43

To: ❤ (in case u forgot its me ygritte)

_ >>Greyjoy’s here. Looks half-dead already after one glance at Robb.<< _

 

17:44

From: ❤ (in case u forgot its me ygritte)

_ >>Record it!<< _

 

With a put out sigh, Jon starts filming from the doorway at Ygritte’s request. It barely takes five seconds and his phone’s shaking from suppressed laughter. After that agonizing introduction, Greyjoy flashes an incredibly awkward smile and produces a pen from his back pocket, clearing his throat. Twice.

“For you.” He croaks at last.

That’s it. Jon’s either going to die from second-hand embarrassment or held back laughter. No way around it. When Robb reaches out to accept the gift it’s the single most embarrassing moment of his life and he’s not sure if he should thank Ygritte for this unique experience or go drown in the closest lake.

He pockets his phone again after the pair manages to tear themselves away from the front door and get going. Very carefully, he peers out onto the driveway. Next to his father’s favourite silver Sedan that even has a name (Ice), now there’s a rust bucket that must have rolled out of the junkyard on its last legs. Greyjoy seems to stammer something about its less than stellar state, but Robb only laughs it off and hops in like it’s the latest limo. Jon watches them leave with a puff of toxic black smoke, then locks up and takes the aforementioned Sedan to The Godswood.

 

He finds Ygritte standing by the staff door where people are taking their breaks.

“So?” Ygritte asks as soon as he’s within hearing distance.

“So what?”

“Did I win?”

Jon flattens his lips into a thin line, but grudgigly admits “Yes.”

No use lying to her anyway. When she keeps staring at him expectantly, he elaborates with great reluctance. “Robb’s giddy as fuck and Theon’s the most awkward creature that ever walked the face of Earth. They’re truly hilarious.”

“Knew it!” Ygritte exclaims, earning them a dirty look from the waitress who has dropped her cigarette in fright. “Let’s get going then, I don’t wanna miss a second.”

 

~¤~

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jon blurts out upon seeing his sister and Margaery already sitting by the cosy table they reserved with Ygritte.

“Oh, you honestly thought we bought your little story the other day? Aw, that’s so cute.” Margaery smiles at him sweetly and Jon has the sudden urge to scrub imaginary molasses off his face.

“Whatever, you can join the party if you want.” Ygritte says, crushing into one of the seats. Jon glares at her, but sits close enough to rest an arm on the back of her chair. He’s not the posessive kind, sure, but when she’s all dressed up and fancy, he can’t help posturing just a little. Sansa gives him a knowing smirk that he ignores in favor of finding his brother.

It turns out they have perfect view of the pair through a bunch of potted plants. Robb has just pulled out the chair for Greyjoy who gapes at him like one of those fish he studies. To no one’s surprise, Robb seems oblivious.

The waiter steps up to them with intricately decorated menus. He’s incredibly tall and his red uniform barely fits his burly frame. He’s got a bushy ginger beard…

“Ygritte.” Jon turns to his girlfriend with a warning look. “Tell me that’s not Tormund.”

“That’s not Tormund.”

The waiter “stealthily” turns around and gives their corner a terrifying smile. He’s totally Tormund.

“Ygritte!”

“What? We have to know what they’re talking about! It’s not half as funny otherwise.”

“How did you get him in?”

“The chef owed a favour to my father.”

“Khm.” Someone loudly clears their throat next to them. Jon turns to see Margaery looking scary in her trademark smug way. “See that table by the window?”

Jon glances there. It’s about three meters from where Robb’s making a good job of looking at everything but his companion. A slender guy’s sitting there, sipping a girly drink with a rosebud in it. He winks in their direction.

“You can’t be serious. Who the fuck is that?”

“My brother, Loras.”

A waitress approaches their table just then, so Jon has to bite back his stunned comment. While they are placing their orders, from the corner of his eye he sees his brother and Greyjoy clinking their glasses of red wine.

“Tormund reported!” Ygritte announces out of nowhere after the waitress leaves, swinging her phone around in excitement. Jon reads the message over her shoulder with a rising sense of dread.

_‘CODE: Mance. Prom king got half a cattle. Skinny has a salad.’_

“Did you even agree on _codes_?”

“Yeah. This is serious business, Snow.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Don’t mind him, he knows nothing.” She waves him off, turning to the girls. “Mance means they have ordered.” She frowns. “I didn’t know your brother was a big eater.”

Jon rubs his forehead. “He’s not. If I have to take a guess, he plans on sharing with Greyjoy. By the way, is he on a diet or something? No one that thin should get themselves only a salad.”

“Nah. He’s broke. Probably can’t afford anything else here.”

Jon glances over and sees Greyjoy looking vaguely terrified while Robb’s making wild moves with his hands.

“Loras says they’re talking about a… grey wind? What?”

“It’s Robb’s husky.” Sansa supplies helpfully. “He must be telling him about the Whispering Wood.”

Ygritte blinks in confusion.

“That time when Grey Wind saved him from a gang of thieves. One of them got into ‘Landing General and almost lost his arm. Robb tells that story to everyone.”

They all snicker when Robb makes a gesture at the height of their table indicating Grey Wind’s size and Greyjoy’s eyes almost bulge out of his head.

“Somehow I don’t think he’s fond of dogs.” Jon chuckles and leans back in his seat. The fun has finally started.

Tormund blocks their sight for a minute when he brings over the appetizers and by the time he leaves, Robb and Theon has somehow progressed to holding hands.

“What?” The four of them blurt out at the same time. “How did that happen?” Ygritte adds, furiously texting.

“According to my brother, Theon’s been bitten by a pit bull. Robb wanted to see the scars.” Margaery reads from the phone in her manicured hand.

“Of course.” Jon rolls his eyes. “And he applied his magical healing touch to them?”

“Apparently.”

Greyjoy’s steadily turning a nice beet red colour while Robb’s stroking the back of his left hand with unwavering concentration. In the background, Loras is wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes. All of a sudden, Robb reaches into his jacket pocket, fishing for something, and comes up with the ominous pen triumphantly. Greyjoy’s bewildered to see the thing again. Jon is too.

“He’s giving Theon his number.” Margaery laughs. “They haven’t eaten anything yet, and Robb’s already planning to meet up again. Ah, Jon, I love your brother.”

“Everyone does.” Jon grumbles. Ygritte pokes his side.

 

After another minute, Greyjoy seems to process that the appetizers are already on the table and pulls his arm back. Robb, flushed like a teenage girl in front of his crush, takes a small bite. He gives Greyjoy an entirely too fond look when he struggles to decide which utensil would be appropriate for this course, then points it out for him. Theon smiles at him - an actual, honest smile, not like the ones Jon has seen from him so far. Robb smiles back and glances away, but his gaze appears to be drawn back to his date. Jon itches to bang his head on the table.

“This isn’t what I signed up for.”

His sister shushes him, staring dreamily. It’s going to be a long evening, Jon deduces with a dark scowl.

Ygritte’s phone chirps, a new text flashing on the screen.

_‘CODE: Snow. Bringing the main course now.’_

“Code: Snow.” Jon deadpans. “Honestly.”

“Yeah.” Ygritte grins at him. “Because you – are – the most - delicious – main course - ever.” She drawls and makes Jon jump when her hand ghosts over the inside of his thigh. Margaery makes a gagging noise.

 

It turns out Robb did order a ridiculous amount of meat and immediately puts half of it on Greyjoy’s sad little salad. Theon looks uncomfortable as hell, fidgeting in his seat, but only nods when Robb gestures at his own - actually flat - belly as if he was fat. They dig into their food at the same time Jon’s table gets theirs. The four of them eat in comfortable silence for a while, because the food really is delicious, then Margaery’s phone buzzes.

“Robb is asking him about his taste in music.”

Sansa grins. “This is going to be good. Robb is into, like, thirty years old stuff.”

“I bet Theon listens to rap and hip-hop.” Ygritte smirks and they all watch with great anticipation as…

...as Theon reaches over the table with both arms and exclaims: _No way!_

“Are you kidding me?” Jon moans in almost physical pain. Robb takes both of those outstretched hands and they simultaneously throw back their heads, laughing. “What kind of monster did we create?”

“But - But how? Everyone hates Robb’s music.” Sansa whines, dumbfounded. Theon does wrinkle his nose in distaste at one point, but a second later they are laughing again.

“Theon is now going on about how those hair metal bands were the sexiest shit.” Ygritte reads Tormund’s text after he took away their empty plates. Jon gawkes at her in horror and, no wonder, she mirrors his expression. “Well, he’s in for a treat then with Wolfboy over there.”

“Ugh” Sansa shudders in disgust. “Ugh, no. So much no. Let’s never talk about Robb like that again.”

Margaery laughs in schadenfreude.

 

~¤~

 

Roughly an hour later, Ygritte is leaning against Jon’s side, as calm as she ever gets. Jon’s lazily caressing the bare strip of her back where her dress doesn’t cover her smooth skin. Yeah, maybe they don’t have quite as much fun as they imagined, but right now, he’s perfectly content with that. Margaery is playing Tetris, out of all games and Loras is on the phone with his husband, if his sister guessed right. Tormund has already brought out the dessert, even though Jon has no idea how those two can take the sugar while everyone around gets a toothache just looking at them.

Robb’s getting into the conversation again. He holds up a hand and starts counting his fingers, going as far as four, then makes a so-so gesture at the fifth. He looks ridiculously happy while Theon’s nodding with something like longing in his eyes. And when did Jon begin calling him _Theon_ ? They haven’t spoken more than four words to each other, and two of those were Theon’s _‘fuck off’_ at the end of their first meeting.

Out of the blue, Sansa shakes Ygritte's shoulder. They all scrape themselves together and look over reluctantly.

It’s Theon’s turn to speak. He stares at the hand he’s currently cradling with the other and judged by the way Robb leans forward, he got very quiet too.

“He’s talking about his family.” Sansa remarks. The date doesn’t feel very funny at the moment.

Theon doesn’t talk very long and when he’s done, he plasters a half-smirk on his face and rubs his thumb over his fading black eye. None of them needs to spell out what that means. Robb slides his hand over the table, palm up, and Theon takes it tentatively. As their fingers twine together, they both blush and avert their gazes.

“Ugh guys, I’m getting diabetes.” Ygritte groans. “I didn’t think they would get along.”

“Me neither.” Jon agrees. “And now they’re practically making out over the table.”

Sansa sighs the way she does during her favourite romantic movies and Margaery snickers into her drink.

It would be really nice to take Ygritte home now, Jon thinks, and glances his brother’s way just in time to see him run his foot up Theon’s calf. Theon chuckles, then wriggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Are they playing footsie?” Jon whimpers and moves to stand up. “Oh my gods, I’m outta here.”

“Sit down, you idiot! They’re going to notice you. We have to wait for them to leave first.”

So they wait.

And wait.

Then wait some more.

When another hour later they are still eye-fucking over their second truffle, Ygritte suggests their group should get drunk. No more than fifteen minutes later Loras is sitting at their table and the five of them are well on their way to get spectacularly pissed. Jon’s not one for alcohol, but this time he would rather choose the hangover than remembering Theon’s face when Robb kissed the back of his knuckles.

~¤~

Jon’s back home, alone in his bed and on the verge of a much needed sleep when someone crashes into his room like a bull in a china shop. That somewhat rumpled figure plops down on his bed.

“Robb?”

His brother heaves an enormous sigh and lies down to stare at the ceiling. “Jon, I’m in love.”

“You always are.” Jon’s too fucking tired for this shit, especially at… three in the goddamn morning.

“No, no. This is different. I had no idea until now…” He’s grinning like a loon when he glances at Jon, his teeth gleaming white in the moonlight. “He’s perfect.”

Jon could beg to differ, but getting into an argument with Robb is just as pointless as fighting a windmill. “Glad to hear that. Now let me sleep.”

“I wanted to thank you.”

At that, Jon feels kinda guilty.

“Robb…”

“Without you, I wouldn’t have met him and I would still be mooning over Jeyne. I can’t thank you enough. I think this… this is going to be very serious. I can feel it.”

As sweet as that sounds, a dark thought occurs to Jon and he blanches, grabbing Robb’s arm almost painfully. “Did you two have sex?”

Please not, he thinks. He doesn’t think it below Theon to take advantage of Robb’s infatuation and have a convenient one night stand, just to crush his heart the following day.

“No. I, uh, I really wanted to, but…” Robb’s voice turns soft with wonder again. “He was such a gentleman.”

“Theon. A gentleman.”

“Uh-huh.” Robb skips over the sarcasm like an expert. Jon often wonders whether he’s doing it on purpose or if it’s instinctual. “We talked for hours at the restaurant, then we went to his place. I almost stayed there, but he offered to take me home and… you know.”

Jon’s pretty sure he knows too much already. “Great. You can go to your own room now and I will finally get some shut-eye. And please, for the love of the gods, don’t come thanking me after you two sleep together, because I don’t wanna hear it. At all.”

Robb laughs and exits the room as quietly as he didn’t come in. Jon falls asleep fuming and dreams about a golden squid laughing at him from a fish tank while Ygritte’s sharp elbow is jabbing into his stomach.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos if you liked this silly work! :)


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